


Lube 101: Things that Aren't Lube

by NerdyMind



Category: Supernatural
Genre: CAH has some of the strangest cards, Crack, I blame this little ficlet on "hotsauce as lube", M/M, PSA: DO NOT ever use hot sauce as lube, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 07:54:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1810969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdyMind/pseuds/NerdyMind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sammy left something in Dean's room and it accidentally ends up places it should never, EVER be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lube 101: Things that Aren't Lube

Dean was distracted. But how could anyone expect him to focus with those perfect pink lips sucking soft bruises down his neck? And those fucking rough hands, they were everywhere. So if he blindly fumbled about on the nightstand for a familiar small bottle whose fault was it really? It was the same size. And the same little pop cap sound. Same cool touch of liquid over his fingers.

But then. When he slipped said fingers down, around and behind his lover. Slicking, rubbing and pushing into the heat of him. Oh but then.

Castiel was moaning at first. Dean’s name a heady prayer lengthened by syllables and huffed into his chest. He rocked back, pulling them deeper, begging for more. The angel’s grip tightening on his lover’s arms and then. Oh but then.

“Dean!”

“Yeah baby, I know.”

“Oh God, Dean!”

“We haven’t even started yet baby.”

“No. Dean. Dean! Stop.”

Dean froze. “What’s the matter?”

“It burns!” Castiel yelped, shoving the startled hunter back, pulling himself up and off the offending stinging. He hissed, positively hissed and glared at Dean’s outline in the dark. “What the fuck, ah it burns!”

“Cas? Cas hold still let me get the lamp. I want to--” Dean fumbled for the light switch and sucked in a startled gasp as he caught sight of Castiel. His angel was huddled in a heap at the foot of the bed. The skin of his ass red and angry looking. And blood? Was that blood? “Oh my god, Cas, are you hurt? Are you bleeding? What did I do?”

“I don’t know Dean, it burns!” blue eyes flashed accusations before ducking back to cradled knees. “Please, make it stop,” he whimpered.

“I need to know wh--” Dean lost his thought again. What was that smell? He looked down at his hands. Red... no orange. He sniffed. _Fuck. **Fuck**_ **.**

“Oh shit,” Dean gasped. He scrambled for the sheets and found the evidence. A near empty bottle of hot sauce. _How the fuck?_   “Cas, oh man I am so sorry. Listen, we need to get to the showers, okay?” Crossing the room he helped his shaking and moaning angel stand. A litany of apologies and self loathing filling the space between them as Dean guided Castiel's arm over his shoulder and slipped his own around the shorter man's waist for support.

Opening the door, Dean found Sam in the hall. Fist raised ready to knock. “Dean, what the hell dude. Pants?”

“No time, Cas needs.. uh.. help. What do you want?”

“I just came to get my hot…” Sam’s eyes grew big and he trailed off.  Just past Dean’s shoulder he saw the mess on the sheets and the offending bottle on the nightstand. “Holy shit. Nevermind!” The taller Winchester turned tail and ran as fast as he could. His brother’s voice yelling after him.

“Yours?   **YOUR hotsauce**?  Were you eating tacos in my room again?! Sammy!”

"You have better Netflix reception!" Sam called out before ducking into his own room and locking the door.

Castiel laughed, bringing Dean back to focus.

“Oh, I see you're feeling good enough to laugh at me now?”

“Nothing a little angel mojo and high pressure bunker showers can’t take care of,” he smiled. “Besides,” Castiel leaned in closer, whispering low as he licked up an adorable freckled ear, “I hear you like eating spicy things.”

Dean blushed and dragged his naughty angel to the showers for a thorough cleaning.


End file.
